


A cold Holiday

by Fayzfics



Category: Paul shapera - Fandom, The New Albion Radio Hour Presents Astonishing Tales of the Highly Improbable (Podcast)
Genre: (it's not a tag but im making it one), Abusive Parents, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Baby Lloyd, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Verbal Abuse, dont worry it gets happy at the end i swear!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29023386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fayzfics/pseuds/Fayzfics
Summary: "Eventually, I stopped going home for the holidays."A young Lloyd decides to spend his vacation at his childhood home. Surely, after having not seen him all year, his father would be glad to see him. Or so he hopes.
Relationships: lloyd & matt
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	A cold Holiday

**Author's Note:**

> [A/N: Me, making a whole fic based off one throwaway line? It's more likely than you think. Warning, Lloyd's father really is the absolute worst in this, I tried to make him as awful as possible. Also I'm autistic and projecting like I'm a powerpoint, so some of the language Lloyd's internalised could be considered ableist. As always, any and all comments and feedback are much appreciated!]

As Lloyd packed his bags, he couldn’t shake a persitent feeling of nervousness. Not that there was anything to be anxious about going home, of course. Yet for some reason, he was. Perhaps it was excitement that he was feeling. After all, he hadn’t visited home all year. The only sign he'd gotten from home had been his tuition. But well, that was just how his father was. Lloyd was sure that, after months apart, he would be glad to see him. It was the holidays; what better time for a reunion? Matt sat on the uncovered mattress.  
“I’m really going to miss you,” he pouted. “Why’d you have to live so far away?”  
Lloyd folded another set of trousers and packed it in his suitcase.  
“Ah, don’t be like that.” he told Matt. “I’m sure the days will fly by in no time. For what it's worth, I’ll miss you, too.” Matt stood up, walked over and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.  
He murmured against his hair: “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”  
“I’ll miss you, sure, but-”  
“No, I mean with your dad." Lloyd turned to better look at his boyfriend.  
“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”  
“Well, from what you told me, he’s kind of...” Matt pulled a face and waved his hand. “Let’s just say he doesn't make me think ‘holiday cheer’.” Lloyd turned his attention back to the last of his clothes.  
“I know, but he’s really not so bad. He’s just a very busy man, is all.” Matt paused for a second.  
“Is that why he hasn’t written you back all year?” Lloyd stopped folding, hands frozen midway in the action, before he continued.  
“It must be. Or perhaps there was a mixup at the post office. There are tons of explanations.”  
“Hmm-hmm.” Even without seeing his face, Lloyd could tell his boyfriend did not believe him. He stuffed the folded shirt in the case with a bit more force than necessary.  
“Look, I know what is seems like. But I assure you, my father is a good man. He's clothed me and fed me, kept a roof over my head-”  
“Congrats, that’s the bare minimum.” mumbled Matt under his breath. Lloyd pretended he didn’t hear it.  
“I refuse to sit here and have him be bad talked by someone who’s never even met him.”  
“Alright, whatever, it’s okay.” Matt put his arms around him. “I didn't mean to make you upset. But promise me you’ll call, okay?” Lloyd twisted in his embrace and kissed him.  
“Of course, as soon as I get home.”

Lloyd pulled his coat a little tighter as he stepped of the train and onto the smoke-filled platform. It wasn’t snowing anymore, but the air was still freezing. Luckily, he had asked his father to arrange a carriage in his latest letter. It seemed it was delayed, though, as he saw no sign of it. He shrugged and sat down on his suitcase, trying to ignore the anxious twisting in his gut.

After 30 minutes had passed, Lloyd stood up to check if perhaps the carriage was waiting at another platform. It wasn’t. Well, maybe it had arrived when he was wondering about. But returning, he found it hadn’t. He sat his bag down again, but found himself too jittery to fully relax. The biting winter wind didn’t help matters. He considered buying something to eat at the kiosk in order to pass the time, but no. He had to wait right here, in case his ride arrived. But when another half hour ticked away, and then another, Lloyd began to despair. He paced the platform and checked the entire station twice for any sign, but no luck. Finally, when the sun began to set, he accepted something must have gone awry. Perhaps the carriage was standing at the wrong station. Perhaps it had gotten in an accident. Whatever the reason, he couldn’t expect a comfortable ride home. He sighed, picked up his bag, and started walking.

By the time he reached the mansion, he could no longer feel his toes. His fingers had turned bright red from the cold, and he half-stumbled up the driveway. At last, he stood before the great oaken front door. When he’d departed to university, he’d foolishly forgotten to take a spare key, leaving him unable to open the door himself. He grabbed the heavy brass knocker and slammed it against the wood. A few moments later, a young woman wearing a maid’s uniform opened it a peek.  
“Yes, can I help you?”  
Lloyd wasn’t surprised her face was unfamiliar. His father was quite strict with staff, making turnover rates rather high. He spoke through chattering teeth.  
“Hello, I ap-pologize for my delay. My name is Lloyd Allen, my f-father is expecting me.” Instead of opening the door further, the woman frowned.  
“Oh, that’s... I’m sorry, he didn’t tell me he was expecting anyone, let alone his son. If you could give me one moment, please.” She shut the door. Lloyd blinked, standing outside his very own home. Well. That was not how he expected that to go. No matter. She was probably new, maybe she had misunderstood or not gotten the memo. He rubbed his hands together and blew on them. As the seconds ticked by, he had the unnerving thought she would return and refuse him entry. Even though he knew those notions were senseless, he still jumped with nerves when the door opened again. The maid looked bashful.  
“My deepest apologies, sir. Please, do come in.” She didn’t have to tell him that twice. Gratefully, Lloyd stepped into the main hall. The mansion was never fully heated, so it could hardly be called cozy. But after the freezing cold outside, it felt like a warm bath.  
“Would you like me to take your coat, sir?”  
“No, thank you. I’d like to see my father now. Where would I find him?” The maid told him to look in the study, which didn’t surprise Lloyd in the slightest. He thanked her and went upstairs.

As he opened the door, a very famillair sight unfolded. His father sat at his desk, ticking away at his typewriter. He didn’t look up as Lloyd stepped inside.  
“Could you close the door; there’s a draft.”  
_Why hello Father, it is nice to see you, too._ Lloyd swallowed the comment and closed the door.  
His father didn't break away from his writing, and murmured:  
“I see you haven’t yet mastered the art of knocking. I understand, it’s a delicate craft.” The cynic comment made Lloyd purse his lips in embarrassment.  
“I- uhm. Apologies, Father, I didn’t mean to intrude.”  
“Hm.” The man sat with his face away from the door, making no move to get up. Lloyd resisted the urge to fidget, staying as straight and still as possible.  
“I, er. It’s nice to be home again,” he lied. “It’s, well, that is, I mean-” He was cut off by an annoyed sigh.  
“I had hoped that blabbering of yours would have ceased by now. Either figure out what you want to say, or say nothing at all.” Lloyd shrank into himself.  
“Right, I- Yes, Father.”  
“Now, do you want anything? Because if not, I’d rather you leave me to my work.”  
_I would like for you to look in my direction for once, if it’s not too much to ask._ Lloyd pushed that thought down and took a second to collect his words.  
“I.. Would like,” he started, slowly, “to.. Wish you happy holidays, Father.” The man laughed dryly at that.  
“Ha! Well, they haven’t been happy thus far. But perhaps they will be. Close the door on your way out, thank you.” Lloyd stood speechless for a moment.  
“I, uhm. Actually, there is another matter I should like to discuss. Multiple matters, in fact, but uh-” He paused, feeling another ramble come on. He took a breath and picked his words carefully.  
“You see, I had to walk here from the train station.”  
“Hm.” His father sounded displeased, more so than his usual tone. “That is unbecoming.”  
“Yes, and rather cold,” agreed Lloyd. “So I fear there's been a terrible mistake at the post office, because-” His voice stuck in his throat as his eyes fell in the wastebin in the corner of the room. Underneath some tissues and an apple core, he could clearly see an envelope peeking out. The neat cursive handwriting on it was unmistakably his. As he tentatively took a step closer, he could see that the envelope was fully intact. Tears stung in his eyes. His father, oblivious, asked bruskly:  
“Well? What kind of mistake? Finish your sentences, boy.”  
“You never opened it.” Lloyd whispered.  
“What’s that?”  
“You never opened it!” Lloyd’s voice was strained. As he broke his eyes away from his discarded letter, he saw that his father still didn’t turn to him, but had paused his writing.  
“You haven’t read a single letter I send you, have you?”  
“There’s no need to get emotional, boy.” His father’s voice stayed that same infuriatingly calm tone. “Stop throwing a fit, there’s-”  
“A fit?!” Lloyd winced internally as his voice cracked. “I have written you every day, and you haven’t even bothered to open them?”  
His father didn’t seem to be affected by his words. If anything, he sounded even more cold and collected.  
“You can’t expect me to spend every waking day worrying about your student escapades. You’re a grown man now, who should be able to take care of his own. I suggest you start acting like it.” Lloyd's hands shook as he clenched them into fists.  
“You- Why do you treat me like this, Father?” He stepped forward, until he stood by his father’s side. The man still didn’t even turn his head.  
“I have done everything you have ever asked. I have tried all I can think of to earn your affection, and yet... What have I ever done to make you hate me so?” Looking at his father's face in profile, he could see his mouth set into a hard line.  
“Don’t be ridiculous, I don’t hate you. Now, stop this at once, you’re making a scene.”  
“I’m not making a scene! I just want-”  
“Lloyd. I said to behave yourself.”  
“But why-”  
His father slammed his fist on the table.  
“That’s enough, Lloyd!” His voice wasn’t raised, barely over speaking volume. But it was enough to make Lloyd instinctively take a step back. He took shaky breath, as though to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. His father sighed.  
“There, I hope you’re pleased with yourself.” He adjusted a few papers that had shifted when he hit the desk.  
“Just go unpack your bags, and we’ll pretend this little tantrumof yours did not happen.” Lloyd could feel the tears pushing, threatening to spill out, but he was able to control his tone and keep it level and almost devoid of quivers.  
“Father... Please, be honest. If I were to drop dead, right here and now. Would it even concern you?” His father paused for a moment before answering.  
“Of course it would. It would be a waste.” He resumed his typing and added:  
“You haven’t even reached Grandmaster yet.”  
Lloyd screwed his eyes shut in an effort to stop from crying. He clenched his jaw so hard, a part of him feared for his enamel. He wanted to scream, to trash his father’s office, maybe even hurt him. His anger and disappointment became a mad frenzy in his stomach and throat, he felt them so intensely he trembled. At the same time, he felt a tiredness wash over him. Why even bother? An outburst would only serve to make him even lesser in his father's eyes. Despite all that emotion, he somehow managed to keep his voice low.  
“I see.” He whispered. “I understand. I’ll be going, now.” He waited a second before he left, hoping against all odds that his father would ask where he was going, or if he'd even return. Instead, the man just nodded in approval and continued his work.

Lloyd made it all the way to the driveway before breaking down in tears. He tried to take a few more steps, but found his legs would no longer support his weight. He fell to his knees in the snow, clutching his suitcase as though it was a plush toy. He sobbed until his voice was hoarse.The tear tracks made his cheeks feel frozen, but he barely registered it. Finally, when he no longer had the energy to cry, he shakingly rose to his feet and headed to the town.

As he walked into the local inn, he kept his gaze down. He hoped no one would notice the splotchiness of his face, or the redness in his eyes. He walked up to a waitress.  
“Uhm, pardon me,” he hated how fragile his voice sounded, as though he could have another meltdown at any second. “Do you have a phone I could use?”  
The kind woman showed him the rotary phone in the back of the establishment. Despite the sign clearly stating a price, she refused his payment.  
“It’s okay, dear, you make your call.” she said gently. Lloyd figured he really must look pathetic if she was so considerate to him. He felt a pang of shame and wished he'd been able to keep himself together a bit longer. Still, he thanked her profusely, and asked the operator to connect him to Matt’s house.

“Johnson household, this is Stacy speaking.” An older woman answered the phone.  
“Uh, yes, hello. Is-is Matthew there? I would like to speak with him, please.”  
“Sure thing, who can I say it is?”  
“Lloyd Allen, ma’am.”  
“Oh, it’s you!” The woman sounded pleased and excited. “We’ve heard a lot about you from Matty!”  
“You... you have?” Lloyd wasn’t sure if he should feel nervous.  
“Sure we have! He will not shut up about you, he-” In the background, Lloyd could hear a young man asked something. The woman responded, a bit muffled as turned her face away from the phone.  
“Yes, dear, its him! I was just talking to- oof!” Lloyd could hear rustles as Matt presumably grabbed the phone.  
“Lloyd? Lloyd, are you there?”  
“Yes, I’m here.” Lloyd smiled at he could hear his boyfriend beam with just sound alone.  
“Ohmigosh, I was so worried! I thought you said you'd arrive in the afternoon?”  
“I-I did. Sorry I didn’t call, there was- my father, he-” Lloyd’s voice cracked. There was a beat of silence on the other end.  
“...That bad, huh?” Lloyd nodded, realised Matt couldn’t see, and responded:  
“Y-yeah. He... He never even opened the letters.” He heard him gasp in shock.  
“Oh, Lloyd... I’m so sorry.” Lloyd tried his best to push back the tears, but found himself unable.  
“I-I thought it would be different, maybe.” He choked out. “M-maybe, because I’ve been doing well in competitions, he would... B-but I haven’t e-even, he said I haven’t reach, reached-” He couldn’t get the last part of his sentence out, instead breaking down in sobs. He clamped his hand over his mouth, wanting to just sink into the floor at such an embarrassing display. When Matt spoke, he sounded tearful, as well.  
“Oh Lolly, I wish I were there right now.”  
“M-me too.” Lloyd rubbed at his eyes with his sleeve, desperately trying to calm down his breathing.  
“Tell you what,” said Matt, uncharacteristically soft, “I know it’s a little soon maybe, but would you like to stay at my place for the holidays? I think there’s an express, you could go tomorrow first thing.” Lloyd was so shocked he almost forgot to cry.  
“B-but, wh- what about your parents?”  
“Hang on, I’ll ask.” Lloyd held the receiver away from his ear as Matt called his mother at full volume. He couldn’t hear her response, but Matt returned his voice to a normal level and said:  
“She'd love to meet you.”  
Lloyd stammered: “I, but, wouldn’t I- This is a family event, and you haven’t seen them all year. I wouldn’t want to impose myself.”  
“Don’t be silly. You’re my boyfriend, I love you, and that’s final. You're more than welcome.”  
Lloyd sniffed. “D-dangit Matt, I had just stopped crying, y-you can’t just, urgh. I love you so much.”  
“I love you, too.”  
As Lloyd hung up and booked a room, he could not stop smiling despite his freshly dried tears. As he lay in bed, eagerly waiting for the morning to come, he noticed the nervousness that had plagued him was finally fading. Closing his eyes, he, at last, felt at ease. Like he was already home.

Then he remembered he’d meet Matt's parents the next day, and did not sleep for the rest of the night.


End file.
